Poems by Dhirendra Mishra


a poem by Dhirendra Mishra

Gazing at a plateau of greeneries
That swings in the cool morning breeze
Waves of myriad hue waving its way
A thin wall of mist of a chill winter
Covering its footline
And a struggling sun trying to wade through
This ocean of greens.

The faculty building that emulates
Exuding an eerie silence to me
Masquerading to cover
A life of action and many heart throbs.

When they sigh at your shyness
Your coy eyes imaged in the lines of a thick chimney smoke
Transfixed in a winter sky
Your silence dumbfounding a dumb
I laugh at their ignorance
Who can’t read God’s handwriting
Still instructible! it is an experiment joyous
To read what these large dark eyes convey
In silence
Well above your supple chin
And quivering lips
Dancing in tandem with those lamps of hope.

I read and reread
To read again
Failing to know where to draw the line.

The smile of the God

a poem by Dhirendra Mishra

Like a starry night you come and pass by
Leaving the amazed man underneath

The telescopes keep gazing
They know only what they see
But their pulses read agitation.

I stand by as a silent spectator
Knowing little if within your body
Is created a universe
A black hole sucks in or
A new star is born.

But like the lenses of my telescopes
I feel something
I try to open up my senses
Yes, I inhale a trace of
Sweet fragrance.

I open up my window wide
And find that the spring has come to my doors.

To my Mum

a poem by Dhirendra Mishra

One day I heard you writhing in excruciating pain
I asked them- they dropped a kiss on my cheek
and told a new ‘Mehman’ is coming.

I grew older and was reminded of this
When somebody else very close
echoed the same horrifying sounds
I thought she will die.
She didn’t and a great celebration came.

Some time I think I will leave everything
To run to your cosy lap and sleep like a child
I will try to make laughter
A constant companion to your lips.

But I fail-

Unconscionably I think that someday ‘you will die’
I cry within myself and shudder
Only to pray you, mum
Keep waiting till I come.


a poem by Dhirendra Mishra

As we consummate ourselves
In a cloistered love
They call it concupiscence.
As we love with impunity
They find it incendiary
And blow a breeze of spite.

Let us not my darling
Utter of love
But conflate it into
A fossilized anecdote
In moments of
Blissful mastication.

The Death Syndrome

a poem by Dhirendra Mishra

Lovely is your care, O, Lord!
Lovely your skill of Art.
You in moments of ecstasy
Have envisioned this trancy world
And in fits of anger
Have poured poison that
Flows in here
Killing the innocent
Like a venus trap.

Where is, O God! Justice here
Where the devotee of virtue
Is suckled in to an in famished hunger
Of startling suspect!

And where blind folded is the
Dispenser of justice!

If muteness is ignorance here, O Lord!
Goodness the ways of a novice
O God, Is it not foolish to pray you
And adore your joyous creation?

For death is far more comforting
Than the fortune of life that flows here
Infected by death Syndrome
Constantly – concealed.

The Diary

a poem by Dhirendra Mishra

Like a dictionary when you read meaning in to me
A page in my diary turns.

The sun sinks, the waves sink
The moon comes, the stars peep
A day folds up
In your dishevelled hair.

You turn its pages in the dawn
When the blood in my veins run slow
Your face falls as that of a shady man
Setting a shudder in your spine.

As the East heralds the day
Birds twitter, songs murmur
Buds open
As you roll out of the bed.

The day passes wordless
And the dusk descends in your orchard
In the light of your young rosy cheeks
I sit down to write a page.

Treading on boulders
Rolled in mosses
You snatch the diary
And close it.

The history of a man
With an unknown anecdote
Slips with a thud
And gets buried-

Under your large dark eyes
In a white page.